


sound the alarms; they are upon us!

by purplejohto



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Almost every country, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cardverse, Dragons, France x Jeanne D'Arc if you squint, Human Names, Incomplete, Multi, No Slash, Not Beta Read, Not Slash Central, a bit like dungeons and dragons, but only a few are mentioned, i'm not done this fic yet, no promises to finish this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22075936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejohto/pseuds/purplejohto
Summary: Warnings: Swearing, Gore, & Violence.When tensions between the Spades and the Clubs Kingdom seemed seconds away from breaking, a mutual enemy emerges. Ancient creatures of dragons, previously sealed away have mysteriously broken free and was now threatening the destruction and terror to everything they've ever worked for and ever known. Will the Kingdoms come together against this external threat, or will they use this opportunity of weakness to destroy the other, once and for all? And who in the world destroyed the seal?The story is updated periodically. This story is also on wattpad under the handle: @purplejohto>> Hetalia and its character concepts belongs to Himaruya Hidekazu. I am only responsible for the plot, the world, and further adjustments.
Relationships: America & Canada (Hetalia), America & China (Hetalia), America & England (Hetalia), America & France (Hetalia), America & Russia (Hetalia), Canada & England (Hetalia), Canada & France (Hetalia), England & France (Hetalia)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

If you were ignorant enough, the passing king’s expression was one of serenity and fitful sleep. If you were unlucky enough, the passing king’s expression was one of finality and bitter acceptance. The evening tolled and the bells rang. Slow drifting water banks carried his casket, gently and purposefully, fulfilling one last service to the commander of ancient elements. A guiding hand laid upon the edge of the wood and as the Ace of Spades spoke out to the crowd of family, soldiers, and citizens alike, the neoteric Queen bent down. He whispered a promise in the late King’s ear.

The Ace didn't need to call for the hush of those who watch on. He raised his soft voice:

“Husband, Father, Ruler to the people, the King of Spades Kingdom: a long life capture by triumph and gratification. An inspiration to the kingdom and a peacekeeper in the roughest times. We gathered here today, to remember and bid farewell, for he was not just a figure, but a friend to those around him, and to us. He brought us careful wisdom and cautious lessons, for, without his rule, we would be decades behind our time, behind our progress. He moved us forward in times of stationary struggles and his knowledge that surpasses even the Aces ourselves, will be forever envied, forever missed and forever embedded in the history of our kingdom. Selfless and kind, our leader has sacrificed so much for his people, and now, it is our time to give back, our gratitude and hope. For a better place, for a final departure. Rest now, King Oxenstierna, to beyond our sights and beyond our horizon.”

The water lapped against the heavily soaked uniform that was draped upon the Queen. He met the Ace on the wooden deck and lowered his head in mourning and gratitude.

“Thank you, Matthew,” Queen Arthur murmured in a low voice.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Matthew stepped back to join his brother in the shadows of the river stage.

The air sizzled with unfamiliar emotion and wordless grievances; unwanted consolidations. Arthur raised his arms. In one hand grasped a tome, and in another, a weary wooden stave engraved with ancient runes. Behind him, the motions of capes signalled the mimicry of his soldiers. In a shower of light and sparkles, they sent off the former king with dignity puffed in their chests. A ball of flame consumed the funeral boat and the king’s engulfed silhouette danced wickedly on the horizon. The very next day, a new king would be crowned, and its ceremony would begin with another toll of the castle bell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any asterisks (*) will have a footnote at the endnotes so don't forget to look out for that.

Arthur watched the Crowning King shuffle on the beautiful ceremonial outfit as carefully as a hasty speed would allow. In contrast to the hurried highness, a young morning light shone serenely through the large east-facing windows, taking up strips of the wall at a time, rather calming the atmosphere instead of entertaining their race against time. Through the beams and rays of white and yellow, he could pick up particles of dust drifting through the air and let himself become distracted by their undisturbed descending journey. A light blue wainscot edged the interior of the walls, almost blending into their main white plaster. Alfred made a noise of frustration, calling Arthur’s attention back to him.

“Aren’t you ready yet?”

“Yeah. No. I can’t find my right armband!”

Arthur physically restrained himself from rolling his eyes, “And why couldn’t you have gotten your servants to dress you?”

“Because they’ve dressed me every single day of my life. This is a special occasion!” As much as Alfred protested and demanded he was completely capable by himself, that morning was perhaps the least ideal day to test his independence abilities. And having been the one to have raised the boy, Arthur knew he was going to struggle, for a fact.

Arthur, who had been leisurely leaning by the door, impatiently strode over to the young Prince. He grabbed Alfred’s arms and inspected the clothing. Indeed, the left armband was attached correctly in place and yet the other sleeve seemed to lack the same decorative attire.

“How—? How did you lose a part of an entire sleeve?”

Alfred scratched his head, almost comically bewildered. “That’s not supposed to happen, I take it?”

“This is _your_ coronation, Alfred. Can’t you, at least, take this seriously?”

“But I am!” The young lad protested, sweeping the rather well-sized room with another frantic gaze. “I am taking this seriously! I can’t help it if the band just decides to disappear. How much time do we have left?”

Just as the words left his mouth, a knock on the door echoed through the hardwood.

“Not much apparently,” Arthur replied and although no one moved to answer, the door opened. They didn’t have time for missing armbands. A man with a very familiar face greeted them. A figure slender yet sturdy, he wore his dark hair in a loose ponytail that he let droop over his shoulder. His eyes carried more age and wisdom than Alfred and Arthur combined and still, no one was able to figure out his true age, that is, if the man still remembered himself. His expressions always seemed to have a roundness to them, perhaps it was his facial features, or perhaps it was just the way he held himself. Either way, whatever way he decided to hold himself, it was the perfectly fitted unique Spades attire that completed his look. So much so that neither of them could ever imagine the man in anything else. “Yao,” Arthur greeted.

“Your Majesty,” Wang Yao, the Jack of Spades, greeted Arthur, “I don't want to rush the King but we only have a few minutes left if we want to start the ceremony on time.” The man inspected the two royalties and quickly picked up on Alfred’s distastefully unsymmetrical outfit.

“He’s not King _yet_ ,” Arthur quickly inserted.

“What’s wrong with your sleeves?”

“My sleeves are fine,” Alfred stuck his right arm under the ceremonial cape stabilized around his shoulders, “ I just… Lost one.” Yao barely took the time to process what Alfred said and just shook his head in disappointed resignation and Arthur felt a compelling need to mimic him. It seems both of them had gotten used to Alfred’s butterfingers after years of mentoring and doing their part in raising the boy. Yao turned back to Arthur.

“We should leave now.”

Arthur nodded, subconsciously shifting a bit under his own heavy formal outfit, adorned with Spades, golden patterns and flowing lines of cotton. The unfamiliar and stuffy clothing was beginning to warm him up to an uncomfortable degree and he had yet to even step into the Throne Room where the coronation will take place.

“Alfred?” Arthur called.

Alfred looked up from his nervous, uncertain shuffling, “Yeah?”

“Don’t be late.”

The loud closing thump of the door left Alfred alone in the mirrors and chairs filled room. His ceremonial sword pressed firmly against his side, as though it was expecting him to ride into battle that very morning. Through the walls of Halberd Castle and through the gap of the cracked open door, he could hear the chimes ringing, marking the beginning of his coronation. He didn’t have time for one last look in the mirror.

The lines of bards played their horn and the low chatter from Royal Guests died down to a deafening silence as the large doors to the throne room groaned open. Arthur kept his head straight forward, eyes ever so slightly gazing across the crowd, barely noticeable, recognizing different faces from the neighbouring kingdoms, and purposefully skipping over others. Large window panes decorated with the arms and symbols of the royal family evenly covered large portions of the wall. The wallpaper over the plaster painted walls were covered in light purple patterns of pikes, halberds and spades. The light pouring in from the windows illuminated the faded coloured room to a point where it seemed as though the walls became gold and the air glowed a pristine shine. The heavy doors to the Throne Hall opened with a satisfying whine. Arthur watched the room simultaneously turn their attention onto the second youngest Prince, some ever so slightly shifting their bodies, others completely readjusting their position to better drink in the star of the event.

The royal mantle dawned upon Alfred was a blue woolly cape so intense it seemed purple and so grand it dragged on the floor behind his every step. Alfred held his head high and his shoulders back. His chest puffed and proud, dressed in a navy purple cloak lined in white wool, the wavy white silk sleeves of the robe under the royal garments hung around his wrists, decorated in dark spades. Alfred minutely met Arthur’s eyes and steeled himself, purposefullingly striding down the long purple carpet with white wool woven into various intricate patterns and reminders.

The bards raised their instruments back up and ceremonious melodies blasted into the air, each note change following the pace of the Crown Heir. He stopped in front of the very first step of the dais and carefully, but swiftly, knelt on both knees. The horns blew one last sound and silence enveloped the hall once again, leaving nothing but the faint chirping of birds from far off in the distance. Arthur stood on the last step of the raised platform and Yao stepped down to place the Spade Watch in Alfred’s open palms. The Queen of Spades spoke in a loud, clear voice.

“Sir, is your Majesty willing to take the Oath?”

“I am willing,” Alfred replied and placed one hand over the pocket watch. A circular purple-shifting incantation appeared beneath his hovering palm, shimmering rings spinning with unbreakable particles.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the Kingdom of Spades and your Possessions and other Territories should any of them belong or pertain so, according to their respective laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise to do so.”

“Will you, to your power, cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?”

“I will.”

“Will you, to the utmost of your power, maintain the Laws of Nature and the true profession of the Spade? Will you, to the utmost of your power, maintain in the Kingdom of Spades, the Convention of Incantation and Magick established by law? Will you maintain and preserve, inviolably, the settlement of the Clock of Spade, and the doctrine, tome, grimoire, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in Spades? And will you preserve unto the Scholars and Sorcerers of Spades, and to the Principles there committed to their charge, all such rights and privileges, as by law do or shall appertain to them or any of them?”

“I will,” Alfred swore.* Layers of the incantations had been slowly spacing out, but with those last words, they flattened into one horizontal level and sank into the spade-shaped watch on his palm. 

The Spade Watch had recognized him as King of the Clock and of the Kingdom.

Almost as though a new connection had formed between Alfred’s consciousness and the magical item in his hand, it burned a painless temperature, almost senseless to anything physical Alfred had ever experienced, before the strange sensation disappeared without a trace.

Raising the last item from on the seat of the throne, Arthur held in his hands the hefty crown, embellished with various ornaments that ranged from a dark blue to purple, to white, to the smallest dotted jewels of black. He stood in front of Alfred and raised the crown out into the air.

“Your Majesty, King Alfred F Jones, of the Kingdom of Spades.” Arthur settled the crown neatly upon Alfred’s head and stepped out of his way to the throne. King Alfred took in the new perspective from the throne and faced the room, his carefully neutral face clearly and rapidly breaking into a more emotional expression, though Arthur couldn’t tell if it was a sentimental one or an excited one. Arthur stood on the right side of the throne and Yao took his place on the left. 

The horns blew one more time and with the most nerve-wracking steps over, the witnesses and guests settled into a somewhat more comfortable silence, staring at the newly crowned King expectantly. Alfred, however, simply stared back, mouth about to crack into a goofy and uncontrollable grin. The pause turned into a pregnant one before it further evolved into an awkward one.

Yao cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Alfred. Alfred’s confused swivel of a head questioningly at Yao told everyone what they needed to confirm. An unprepared King would either blossom in his rule or cause the most incidental ruin.

“Your speech,” Arthur tried to hiss in a low voice but with the large rounded room and the stillness of noise, he may as well have yelled. He cringed hearing himself.

“Oh!” Alfred unsuccessfully whispered back. He cleared his throat, unprepared, and frantically glanced around the room, catching eyes with various distant relatives and friends.

“Uhm,” he started, “I’m not very good at speeches so I’ll keep this short and to the point. Firstly, I’d like to mention my father and the good he had done, both for the royal family and for the growth of the kingdom. Out of his reign, we have truly entered a new golden age of power, opportunities, and collaboration. He was taken from us too soon, but just as he was aware of the ticking clock,” Alfred’s hand ever so slightly clenched the Spades Watch tighter, “and made his mark in the history of this kingdom, as I will strive to as well.” Alfred glanced over first at the Royal Family of the Diamonds, nodding at their respective King, and then at the Queen of Hearts, and then at the Ace of Clubs, almost purposefully avoiding eye contact with the King of Clubs. “Secondly, some of you here today are relatives from separate Kingdoms, here in support of me, that of which I wholeheartedly thank. Others have attended in recognition and support of a long honoured alliance between families and courts which is also highly appreciated during a sensitive time such as this.” Alfred took a deep breath, calming his nerves, and said, “Finally, I’m not blinded to the fact that I am young and naive and unqualified for the position I have been handed, but know that I am supported by the most skilled and wise listeners of this Kingdom and if you should hold any doubt, know that I vow to surpass the name of my father in all walks of achievement before I hit the fifth year of my reign.” Both the room and the hands at his side were as silent as the dead, but a different kind. One that spoke of shock or disbelief. The memory of King Berwald, cold and steely yet strong and bold, still fresh in many minds. No one could understand Alfred’s meaningly declaration, it would only make him look like a fool.

Alfred concluded, “To others, I thank you for making it here in homage regardless of distance or bother. We will be moving to the Grand Hall for the feast.”

The bards took a second to collect themselves from their new King’s declaration to surpass the previous king, whose death was still raw and sensitive in everyone’s hearts, by the way, and sounded the horns inclosure of the ceremony. The royals left the room, notes blearing behind them.

After the King had accepted the crown placed upon his head, the after-party began. An after-party is mutually known mostly for its diplomatic purposes; to create new alliances and relations with the new royalty and to converse about actions and changes in plans that may arise.

Arthur and Yao watched Alfred take an anxious deep breath. They were back in the changing room for a break and the party was about to start.

“Alfred?” Arthur cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence.

Alfred nervously bounced up and down, his eyes shifting around from racing thoughts, “Mm?”

“What was that?”

“I… I don’t know what you mean.”

Yao scoffed, “You know exactly what we mean, Jones.”

“Well, you also know what _I_ meant, don’t you? Why do we have to bring it up?”

“Because your father was _good_ , and his passing was still fresh in their minds. That was not the time to declare such a statement. Why couldn’t you ever read the atmosphere?” Yao snapped back, “And apologies for putting words in Your Majesty’s mouth but no, it is not a book.”

Alfred rolled his eyes, “I can absolutely read the room and I did! None of them expects anything great from me. None of them think I’ll be able to live up to even half of his potential, I saw it written all over their faces! So I’m going to prove them wrong, what’s the big deal?”

“For the love of...” Arthur muttered and massaged his temples, “What don’t you get? If they don’t expect much from you then everything you do will be seen as deserving of praise! You won’t have such a large amount of pressure on your shoulders to live up to, no promises or expectations and to declare it in such a disrespectful—”

“—I was being respectful—”

“— _In such a disrespectful way_ , you are going to be viewed as rash, impulsive, and naïve. Do you even understand the bar you had set yourself? King Oxenstierna practically built the modern era of this kingdom, while you know nothing about actually being a king.”

“Of course, I understand! I might’ve not been the one to have been trained my whole life to be King, but since Matthew became Ace you _know_ I’ve been doing nothing but preparing for this day!” Alfred shouted in frustration, “You might’ve raised me but you’re going to have to realize one day that I’m not a child anymore Arthur. I understand everything I said and everything that was implied and I only said it because I know, for a fact, that I will surpass him—”

Yao sighed and shook his head. Arthur just seemed tired and resigned. Both from the surmountable social and diplomatic issues Alfred had just created, as many were still highly fond of the previous king, but also from the pressure that had built up in preparation of the entire ceremony.

“—He might’ve built this kingdom, but I’m going to make it a superpower. Mark my words. What are you shaking your head for, Yao?”

“If you want to surpass him, you’re going to first have to ensure peace between all kingdoms, Alfred. That was something His Majesty had been firm on, to boost us through collaboration rather than competition. Simply peace has allowed the economy and our population to swell by more than double.”

Arthur agreed. “Which means your silly little rivalry with His Majesty of Clubs will have to end. Or you’re going to drag both of our kingdoms into something that can’t be recovered from.”

Alfred made a face of extreme disgust, “Oh, don’t even address him that politely. Ivan’s a piece of shit and you know it.”

Yao rolled his eyes. “I’d argue otherwise,” he muttered.

“What?”

Ignoring him, Yao turned to address the Queen, “Arthur, you should go on first and formally greet the guests. I’ll help fix up His Majesty into his regular attire.”

Arthur let out a heavy breath and dropped his hands from his temples. “Right. Them.” He took a short bow to the Jack of Spades and his new King before muttering, “If you’ll excuse me.” He might call Alfred an ungrateful brat to his face and a ‘headache-causing child’ in his mind, but he was still a gentleman and that meant following courtesies.

By himself in the corridor leading to the main hall, he had time to relax a little, before he has to jump back into the fray. The servants being busy attending to the visitors in the main hall meant he could finally get the chance to sink fully into his thoughts and prepare for the people he was about to face. Again.

Most of them, he had known for years; some, his whole life. The person that immediately came to mind was the King of Diamonds and he almost physically gagged. Their relationship growing up over the years could be described as a motion spell gone awry. Like a roller coaster, if those existed. At best, Francis was bearable. At worst, they could be found attempting to pummel each other to death. But that was when Arthur was still young and had the energy to spare quarrelling with someone not worth his time, no matter how much Arthur despised him. Which is why even more, Arthur understood Alfred’s rivalry with the King of Clubs: Ivan Braginski. It didn’t matter whether or not the emotion invested was positive or negative; emotions, time, and thoughts were invested nonetheless and this meant the other person captured a massive amount of your attention. It became a routine, a lifestyle, a personality, to hold that consistent hatred for them.

When Arthur sees Francis again, all he can hope is to not start choking him again out of pure habit. And not the fun kind of choking.

Arthur slipped into the main hall—as un-noticeable as one could be opening some of the largest doors in the castle—and observed the attenders, picking out those he would greet first. Or whichever ones he could handle at the moment. On one side of the room, he spotted Francis’ Queen, Erika Vogel, and on the other side of the room he spotted the Heart Kingdom’s new king, Ludwig Beilschmidt.

Erika Vogel was a young girl who had inherited the seat at a young age and as a result, her very protective older brother, Basch Zwingli, also found his way into the royal seating as Jack of Diamonds. Arthur knew that part of that overprotective grab for the position also came from rumours of Francis’ rather unpleasant habits of flirtation; murmurs and accusations of pedophilic tendencies or non-consensual activities, and Arthur knew better than anyone that it was all bullshit. In fact, he was fairly certain and he knew Francis better than anyone else, even better than his own royals. Disdain quickly erupted as he realized he was bragging about that fact as though he was proud of it—which he was not—and quickly reaffirmed; Francis was a fucking asshat but he could bet his life Francis would never attempt anything as idiotic or serious as that.

The Heart Kingdom’s king, Ludwig Beilschmidt, on the other hand, was someone Arthur had barely learnt about. Ludwig was relatively new on the throne and Arthur only knew two things about him: one, Ludwig was raised almost entirely by his older brother, the previous Heart Kingdom’s king, Gilbert Beilschmidt and only took the throne when Gilbert was promoted to Joker. And not just the smaller seat joker, who was already taken by Arthur's younger brother and that in of itself was an entire riot he wasn’t ready to mentally dive into yet, but the larger seat. Gilbert was practically on the top power seat of the universe as they knew it. Gilbert Beilschmidt. The Big Joker. Arthur stared at Ludwig, who was conversing with someone. His brother. He couldn’t even fathom such a—well, actually, he could, seeing as how Peter was in a similar situation. Eyes wandering back around the room, he looked for someone he might possibly have the strength to converse with, perhaps to break the ice on this long day. Still, that whole event of Gilbert waking up one day with the Joker Emblem, a pointed tail and a pair of ear-horn things was quite a shocker and by the next day, all four kingdoms had heard of the news. Gilbert himself spent the first 12 hours with his new powers zapping up to anybody and everybody he knew and showing it off. Arthur could still remember being startled awake at the ass crack of dawn to Gilbert crashing into his bed-side table and smugly swishing that annoying tail in his face. Getting back on topic, the second thing Arthur knew about Ludwig was the rumours of his infatuation with his Jack, Feliciano Vargas. Though it was just something Arthur heard in passing, he didn’t know how much he could trust mere gossip but he knew so little about Ludwig that he ended up counting it as information.

Emerging from his thoughts, Arthur caught sight of Zwingli who was standing behind his little sister, feverently staring at him as though challenging him to a death-duel, and Arthur finally realized he had been staring at his little sister, Erika this entire time. Erika, enjoying a pastry on the small round table of baked goods, hadn’t noticed him yet and as Arthur approached to greet them like the great non-judgemental host he was, Zwingli tugged on his sister’s sleeve. Arthur could faintly pick out his words from amongst the chatter around them.

“Let’s go, Lili. I hear there are some sweets over there you’d enjoy.” Zwingli beckoned her away, pointing at a table two other members of the Diamond Noble family stood by. They were… Lars and Lux Abelsson, respectively Nine and Six of Diamonds if he remembered correctly. Arthur wasn't on… Bad terms with either of them in any case. In fact, he had periodically hung out with their sister, Emma Abelsson, and sometimes still did; just to gossip and have biscuits in the Queen’s Royal Garden, talking about their mutual contempt for Francis.

Ignoring the escaping siblings, Arthur turned his eyes back over to Ludwig, who was now engrossed in a conversation with his queen, Queen Honda Kiku of the Hearts Kingdom, and also an old and fairly good friend of Arthur’s. With no one else around and currently catching his attention, he began to make his way over to the new king. He smoothly fixed his outfit and straightened his shoulders. A first impression was important, especially with someone as important as a king from a neighbouring kingdom. From this initial meeting, Arthur was hoping to strike the same deal, the same pact, as they had with Heart’s previous king, Gilbert. Though he knew next to nothing of what Ludwig thought of their previous alliance, how he thought or what he prioritized. Not that navigating around Gilbert was much easier. In fact, dealing with Gilbert was almost a lot more difficult than any other thinker because of how much of a tactician he was, even more than himself at certain surprising times. Always thought 10 steps ahead and with every possibility, he’s probably already calculated the next million ways a situation might go down the moment you step in his counselling room and because of this, he was ever rarely surprised or unprepared. Gilbert’s complexity in both reactions, almost seemingly random, and thought was something Arthur, to this day, never fully grasped. If Ludwig was anything like his older brother, well, Arthur was in for some more sleepless nights.

“His Majesty, King Ludwig,” Arthur addressed Ludwig from a few paces away and swiftly did a well-practiced neck bow, “I believe this is our first time meeting.” Ludwig’s conversation swiftly stopped short at the arrival of the Queen Host. Arthur politely dipped his head in greeting for Kiku, though he didn’t need to as they were friendly enough, they were in a formal setting and Arthur couldn’t help to stick to the courteous mannerisms. “His Majesty, Queen Kiku.”

“His Majesty, Queen Arthur,” Kiku politely greeted back.

“His Majesty, Queen Arthur,” Ludwig echoed and showed up a neck bow as well, to which Arthur quickly dismissed.

“Please, no need to do that,” Arthur huffed, “I do hope you’ve enjoyed this party so far.” Ah, small talk. Arthur despised it but it was almost in all cases, a mandatory complimentary dish to the main meal of the conversation. Mentally grinding his teeth at the tedious process of them royals, he continued, “If there’s anything you’re unsatisfied with I’m sure there’s something I’ll be able to do about it.”

“No, no, everything’s been swell,” Ludwig sternly replied, taking his mere question of etiquette, so it seemed, seriously. “I heard you were the Planning Director of this ceremony? Really, you’ve done a great job, this couldn’t have been easy.”

If Arthur was taken back by Ludwig’s genuine attitude, he didn’t show it. “Ah, many thanks. Like every other staff and contributor, I simply tried my hardest and did what I could. I’m glad it meets up to your standards.” Now it was time to break the ice and delve deeper, Arthur steeled his nerves for whatever reaction Ludwig might have. “I can’t imagine it’s easy being a newly crowned king as well, especially on such short notice.” Perhaps it was a relief to both sides when Ludwig’s shoulders seem to unstiffen a bit and Arthur took an internal deep breath.

“Yeah, but it had to happen sooner or later, and I was prepared so it wasn’t too bad. Or at least as bad as it could’ve been.”

Arthur agreed. There were so many possibilities as to why Ludwig would take the throne preceding his brother, be it exile, imprisonment, grave harm, or even death, Gilbert being promoted seemed like the best possible outcome. A miracle even. Though miracles or incredibly good luck never sat right with Arthur. Maybe it was just his superstition speaking, but in his experience, when there’s a high, there will always be an equally devastating low, and ascending to the throne for the best possible reason seemed like quite a high high. Arthur could only hope his gut feeling was wrong, though it hardly ever is.

“Speaking of which,” Arthur swiftly redirected the conversation to something more casual, “how’s your brother? I haven’t seen him around lately.”

Ludwig seemed to relax a bit, “He’s doing fine. Or, at least the last time I saw him. He hasn’t stopped by recently. I know you and him were close so I was actually going to ask you.”

‘Close’ wasn’t completely accurate. He and Arthur were comfortable around each other, jokes, insults, but this ‘closeness’ wasn’t out of choice or care but rather because of how long they’ve known each other for. It was more of a natural progression, something he doesn’t spare thoughts towards; they were just simply like that. Still, Arthur put on a pondering face, “From what I’ve heard, it seems no one’s heard from him recently. That is a bit troubling though it’s too early to say there’s any sort of perilous danger. Perhaps there’s simply a job to accomplish we haven’t heard about yet.”

Ludwig nodded. “What about your little brother? Although he’s still incredibly young, he’s the Small Joker right?” It surprised Arthur that Ludwig knew more about him than he knew about Ludwig. Perhaps he was just as studious and meticulous with notes and profiles as Gilbert was.

“Yes… Now that I come to think of it, I haven’t seen Peter around either.” But now this was really troubling. Arthur tried to stamp down on the quickly rising feelings of panic and worry. Now was not the time, he could worry himself to death about Peter later, after all the guests had left and he was alone in his bedroom. Arthur wondered if Ludwig was currently concerned about his brother too, because if he was, he was hiding it extremely well. What a solid steel face, Arthur thought.

Kiku, who had simply been observing their back-and-forth finally broke his silence, assisting Arthur in getting to the point of the conversation. “Was there something you would like to talk about, Arthur?” Ludwig looked back at Arthur expectantly.

“Ah yes, thank you for mentioning it. You see, previously for the past few centuries, our kingdoms shared a mutual alliance pact, and through King Gilbert I, we were also able to recently make a trade agreement. Of course, as a new reigning king, it would be in the interest of both of our securities for you to renew these pacts under your name as well, give our cooperation your blessings.”

“Hm…” Ludwig thought for a moment, a long moment, and then said, “I’ll have to give you my answer at a later time.”

Arthur blinked.

What he expected was a direct and quick response of agreement. After all, it was a bit of a no-brainer, a free-trade deal would benefit both of their kingdoms as many raw materials and products that were available in one region are either scarce in another or simply a specialty. They already had established trade routes with a comfortable merchant class. And the mutual alliance pact was obvious. There was no fighting anyway, and the deal was simply there to uphold that peaceful tradition; a non-aggression pact for an extra layer of security if you will. Simply declining the pact, breaking it, raised alarms. What was Ludwig suggesting, if anything malicious? What possible reason or motive would Ludwig have to start a war?

“Oh,” was all he could say for a moment, before he caught himself, quickly prodding Ludwig for more, “is there something about our previous agreements that unsatisfied you or raises concern? If so, I believe we could solve that rather quickly.”

“No, no, that’s not it. There are just a few questions I have regarding the mutual alliance pact’s conditions that I would like to judge for myself,” Ludwig shifted his eyes to around him and lowered his voice, “with His Majesty, King Alfred of course.”

Arthur’s gears were turnin’. He sort of suspected something like this would happen sooner or later with Alfred’s naivety and rashness presented on the full-front, but so much so to take a millennial long tradition into question was perhaps, too much to expect. Perhaps King Ludwig thought he was incompetent? What if a war were to break out, either with one of the other kingdoms or an external force, that Alfred would not be able to back him up.

Before Arthur could reply with anything, Ludwig continued, “I hear His Majesty has quite a feud with His Club Majesty, King Ivan.”

Ah.

It wasn’t the non-aggression pact between them that worried Ludwig. It was the alliance part. Ludwig didn’t want his kingdom to get dragged into a meaningless war because of an immature King’s personal grudges. Now that Arthur had a piece of Ludwig’s thought process, he could safely say, Ludwig’s complexity was no easier to predict than Gilbert was. They really are brothers after all.

“That’s understandable. I’ll contact Kiku later about it to set a date for our meeting,” Arthur glanced at Kiku and he nodded. They would converse later. Addressing Ludwig, he asked, “just out of curiosity, how do you know all of this stuff?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, my younger brother being rather… young to be a Joker. His Majesty’s,” Arthur tried to phrase it as gently as possible, “frequent disagreements with King Ivan. All these topics that don’t necessarily concern you or your country.” He didn’t want to say gossip, it would’ve sounded a bit crass.

“Oh,” Ludwig huffed and it sounded suspiciously like an airy laugh, “apologies if it seemed as though I was sticking my nose into your personal business. It’s just, Feliciano likes to gossip and often rambles what he sees or picks up to me, although if it isn’t about our kingdom I could care less about it.”

“Feliciano?” Arthur wracked his brain. Where had he heard that name before?

“Feliciano Vargas. He is the jack of our kingdom and has been for a while,” Kiku cut in, “though others outside of our own kingdom others rarely hear or interact with him as he doesn’t really…” He trailed off, searching for a more delicate way to put it, “do his job as well as we’d hope.”

“Huh.”

Arthur felt like he had met this Vargas before. They have to have met at some point, but perhaps only once or twice, not enough for Arthur to remember him outside of a professional meeting. And that last name was even more striking to him. Where had he heard Vargas before? “Forgive me if this inquiry is stepping out of line but, he had been jack for quite a while right?” To them, ‘quite a while’ could range up to a few centuries, so Feliciano was a rather curious subject. “How had he not been replaced or removed from power?”

Ludwig and Kiku exchanged a look, one that Arthur couldn’t exactly decipher but if he had to guess, it seemed like helplessness. Looks like they have troubles of their own. Eventually, Kiku answered him, “You see, he’s a beloved grandson of one of our previous kings. King Romulus. King Romulus was the one who started the house of Vargas and they, to this day, still hold a large amount of power. Especially the older grandson, Lovino who has since become our Ace.”

Finally, it seemed as though Arthur’s memory was becoming unclogged. Of course, Vargas. In fact, it was _that_ Vargas. Arthur would bet his right arm there wasn’t a single person in any kingdom that didn’t know who King Romulus of the Heart Kingdom was. Romulus was a figure so great and so grand, every other king that came after him, including Gilbert, seemed like nothing but flies. Ants. Of course, that isn’t to discredit any preceding kings. King Romulus created the bone of the Hearts Kingdom. The glorifier. The expander. The one who developed the core systems, operations, boundaries and classes that influenced every other kingdom and are still being used in the Hearts Kingdom today. Gilbert focused on quality of life, disputes, and contradictions in laws and book keeping that was no doubt important, but what he did compared to Romulus was simply the frosting on the cake. King Romulus was the foundation. And seeing as Feliciano was one of the only surviving grandchildren of King Romulus, well, it was no surprise that he was able to stay in power, and to stay supported by the people for so long. Even if that unconditional support allowed him to grow-up quite freely and give him a lacking sense of responsibility as jack, simply the name Vargas inspired awe and admiration in their people’s hearts.

In fact, Arthur had met Lovino, the older Vargas grandson, on multiple occasions! Since Matthew became the Ace of Spades, he convened with Lovino, the Ace of Hearts, more and more often, the Vargas becoming a rather familiar face in Spade Royalty life. He knew Lovino was part of the house of Vargas, but it had somehow slipped his mind that Feliciano was his younger brother.

“Ah… I see,” Arthur nodded slowly, having finally understood. Well, if the rumours about Feliciano were even a little bit true, what Ludwig said about receiving his news would’ve held up. With Feliciano by his side, he could learn about the drama and dealings of the furthest parts of his kingdom, and others, without even trying. “Makes sense, it is fortunate that our kingdom does not have such an interesting character to have to entertain,” he laughed. Was it an insult? A brag? Just something to say off the top of his tongue? That was for Ludwig and Kiku to interpret. Kiku simply chuckled under his breath, understanding Arthur hadn’t said it to pick fights, but rather he was just a proud man. Ludwig, on the other hand, frowned, but still opted to dismiss it rather than confront it like his older brother may have.

“Alright,” Ludwig’s eyes shifted over his shoulder and he cleared his throat. A cloak of formality fell over his demeanour once more. Arthur followed his line of sight, he turned around to see that Alfred had entered the room and was heading towards them. The King of Hearts quickly looked over to the table Zwingli and his sister were at and met their gaze, giving them a quick nod and a raised hand to let them know he was heading over. “It seems the Queen and Jack of Diamonds would like to speak with me. Please, excuse me.” Ludwig bowed his head and bid his farewell, quickly shuffled out of the situation, what with Alfred’s arrival and all that.

“His Majesty, Alfred F. Jones, King of Spades.” Kiku lowered his head and did a courtesy bow upon Alfred’s arrival to the conversation. Immediately Alfred chuckled and scratched his neck in humble embarrassment.

“Hehe, I’m never gonna get used to that. Thanks!”

Arthur cleared his throat.

“Oh right!” Alfred, in return, bowed, an arm behind him and one hand over his chest, “His Majesty, Honda Kiku, Queen of Hearts.” It was a perfect greeting, but it would’ve been even more perfect if Arthur didn’t have to remind him every time. Almost immediately, Alfred’s serious facade broke and a happy grin spread across his face. Well, it was his coronation, Arthur supposed the lad would be happy. “Whatcha guys talking about?”

“It is perfect that you are here, Your Majesty. We were just going to set the date to a meeting between you and King Ludwig,” Kiku and Arthur shared a mutual understanding glance and nod. They were on the same page.

“King Ludwig? That’s… Uhm…”

“King of Hearts,” Arthur leaned in to whisper.

“Oh right! King of Hearts!” He smiled at them both and stared at them, the two only staring expectantly back, “what about him?” Arthur sighed.

“You’ll be having a meeting with him in the close future. I’ll tell you about the details and the topics we’ll be discussing in the meeting, but for now, we’ll have to set a date.”

“Cool!” Alfred exclaimed, "so what am I supposed to be doing?”

“Socialize,” Kiku responded at the same time Arthur replied ‘mingle’.

“Uh, right, okay,” Alfred fixed his posture and scanned the room, using his taller than average height to his advantage. Just as his eyes laid on someone he thought he could bother, the room's tone changed and people’s attention shifted in one direction. The doors opened with a large creak. A teetering silence fell over the crowds as the newcomer strolled in.

Alfred hardened his eyes and under his breath, growled, “Ivan…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This process was taken from Queen Elizabeth II's Orientation procedure.


End file.
